


Fighting over a boy

by Madi, StarNightingle



Series: Role-Play write ups [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, John dates, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 16:49:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2158047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madi/pseuds/Madi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarNightingle/pseuds/StarNightingle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John needs someone who wont run at the thought of Sherlock, who has been relentlessly chasing off prospective girlfriends. So John tries something different. Maybe it's time for John to have a boyfriend.</p><p>This series does not flow, each fic is a stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fighting over a boy

John thought Sherlock was asexual. Sherlock knew John thought this. And, while it was strong at first, ever since Sherlock had rebuffed John at Angelo’s almost a year ago John had been showing fewer and fewer signs of attraction towards him.

Not that Sherlock minded, in fact it was fine, just as he’d intended. Sentiment made things messy and Sherlock had absolutely no desire to become domestic. No the thought was simply disturbing.

But still, as the months wore on and John began dating more and more Sherlock found himself getting... irritated, that was the best word for it. He was irritated at the unfit females John would constantly take out. Sherlock made plans to rid himself, to rid John, of these useless distractions.

At first John had put up a fight, but eventually he stopped bringing girls home and then had stopped dating completely. Sherlock had never questioned his actions. When John asked ‘why, Sherlock’ he would respond that he was simply saving John the time on destined to fail relationships. Also that John needed to be available to him at all times, though that never went over as well.

 John would walk away muttering something about 'you don’t want me so why can’t I have someone' or 'just because you don’t do relationships' but Sherlock barely paid any attention to the mutterings. He was always too busy on revelling in the high of his success discarding yet another 'girlfriend'.

\------------------------------------

John thought Sherlock was asexual. And John was aware Sherlock knew he thought that. Ever since Sherlock had rebuffed him in Angelo's a year ago John had tried desperately to curb his attraction to Sherlock, with some success. He began dating again, not that it worked. Infuriatingly Sherlock kept scaring off everyone he bloody might be able to get a leg over.

It was hardly fair. Just because bloody Sherlock didn’t seem to need sex didn’t mean no one else did. John certainly did. Even when John voiced his 'concerns' Sherlock would give one of this famously vague answers. He acted as if John Watson was his fucking property and grined smugly at him.

\---------------------------------------

John needed someone who was resilient, someone who wouldn’t be thrown off by Sherlock Holmes. John needed a man. It wasn’t as if John was adverse to dating a bloke, he’d had a few boyfriends in collage. He’d simply stuck mainly to girls ever since, well, ever since Sherlock.

Difficult to find a guy when no other man could turn his head. Maybe that’s exactly what he needed. Sarah had offered to set him up with a bloke, as a joke at the time, but maybe she knew someone. With one quick phone call, and an affirmative text john had a date for the night. A male date. Sherlock could stick that in his pipe and smoke it.

\-----------------------------------

John came down the stairs in his hideous date shoes and smelling as if he’d just bathed in cologne. Sherlock knew right away that it was date night for Doctor Watson.

It struck Sherlock as strange, a mere blip on the radar. Why now? John hadn’t had a date in a good month or two. Ah well, he thought briefly, shouldn’t be too hard to get rid of this one either.

‘Hot date tonight, John?’

‘Uhh,’ Josh said, walking over to the mantle and checking his hair in the mirror. ‘Yea, I hope. Bit blind, Sarah set us up.’

Strange that John would go to an ex girlfriend for a set up. Surely there was some social rule against that.

‘So what is her name this time? Something boring and ordinary, surely.’

John chuckled to himself. ‘Her? Thought you didn’t like assumptions. Name’s Charlie.’

Sherlock quirked a brow at John. Assumptions? Interesting joke to make, generally John liked to assure people that he was, in fact, ‘not gay’.

‘Charlie, she sounds dreadful.’

Sherlock was annoyed when John chuckled again.

‘You would think so... promise this one will surprise you.’

Surprise Sherlock? Not likely. Nothing surprised Sherlock. He set about proving exactly that to John.

‘I highly doubt it. No condom in your back pocket? You have taken one on every date you have been on in the time we’ve spent together. So you already know that this won’t turn out well. I don’t know why you bother’

‘I bother because-’ John sighed and shook his head. ‘You know what don’t worry, I’ve tried explaining but it just doesn’t work. And who says I need to get a leg over to have a god date?’

Josh turned away from the mirror and pulled at the edge of his jumper, straightening it out. He glanced at the clock. His eyes moved back to the mirror. _Nervous_ Sherlock noted.

‘Now they’re meeting me here in a bit.’ John said clearing his throat. ‘I need you on your best behaviour. Got that? Best. No deducing, no insulting, no walking about with body parts or exotic spiders. Best behaviour.’

‘Oh of course I’ll be on my best behaviour. Cross my heart.’ Sherlock rolled his eyes and wondered how he could stick to John’s rules and still scare her off, violin maybe.

He didn’t have much time to wonder though because not a second later the doorbell rang. John looked nervously down stairs and picked up his wallet.

‘Oh John do you hear that, the door bell, she’s here oh joy! Oh no, no,’ Sherlock said, blocking John from walking down the stairs, ‘I’ll let your "lady friend" in.’

Sherlock walked down the stairs quickly. Perhaps this could be quicker than usual. He might be able to come across as the possessive, unrequited love interest. Surely that would work, the girls John dated tended to lean towards romantic.

‘Sherlock, please! Just be nice.’ John called, grabbing his jacket and putting himself as close behind Sherlock as possible.

‘Why hello milady welcome to our-’ Sherlock stopped dead as his mind caught up with what his eyes were seeing.

 _Pressed shirt. Clean shaven. New trousers. Date. Johns date_. Something icy clenched at Sherlock’s heart as he desperately tried to assimilate this into his world view. John is dating a man. A male. Not a woman. It shouldn’t have been different, but somehow it was.

‘By milady he means sir of course.’

John pushed past Sherlock, moving him gently out the way. He was a little worried by Sherlock’s ‘deer-in-the-headlights' impersonation but took advantage of it for a quick getaway. ‘Right, that’s me off then. I’ll be back later tonight, yea?’

Sherlock’s mind seemed to snap back into action. He was suddenly stepping back and, after a scathing look at Charlie, slammed the door in both their faces without another word.

 

\---------------------

 

John had a pleasant enough evening, he though walking back to 221b. He was walking back alone, which in itself was a sign that it hadn’t been the best night. John had needed to give a quick excuse for the way Sherlock had acted at the door. Charlie had seemed a little interested in Sherlock but conversation hadn’t stayed there for long. John wouldn’t let it.

They had walked to a small cafe restaurant nearby and chatted about mundane things as they went. What they did; Charlie was a nurse, which was how he knew Sarah. They talked about family; Charlie was an only child but grew up with plenty of extended family. They talked about their past; Charlie had moved to London a few years ago and before that lived in the country just out.

Dinner had been a pleasant enough time, though John checked his phone whenever he could get away with it, making sure Sherlock wasn’t up to trouble. They had discussed old uni stories and horror tales from their time in medicine.

Charlie was nice. He was funny and kind and... not Sherlock.

In the end John had wished him a good night at the door of the cafe and walked the other way without so much as swapping numbers. John was annoyed at himself. This guy probably could have handled Sherlock. The problem was he wasn’t Sherlock.

\----------------

‘Sherlock? I’m home, you in?’

The flat was dark, all the lights off. Though knowing Sherlock he was sulking in the dark on the couch. That or he was so lost in his own thoughts he hadn’t noticed it get dark. No reply came.

John walked further into the flat and stood in the door way of the living room. ‘Sherlock?’

Still no reply came, but John noticed the light filtering through the kitchen and walked around the corner to see the lamp on in Sherlock’s room, door open. John sighed and moved into the kitchen to make a drink.

’I’m making tea,’ John called, stretching his neck and trying to see Sherlock in his room. ‘If you’re there and you want some say now.

John got no reply. He sighed and pulled two mugs down regardless. His phone buzzed from in his jacket and he pulled it out quickly.

“Yes- SH”

John frowned down at his phone and looked back up at Sherlock’s open door. After another glance at his phone he walked up to Sherlock’s room and barged in without warning. Sherlock was laying on his bed, arm slung dramatically over his face.

‘What’s this?’ He shoved his phone in Sherlock’s face, displaying the message.

Sherlock didn’t deign to reply. He simply glared up at john and swung himself onto his side, facing away from John and giving a soft harrumph as he did.

John looked between his phone and Sherlock. Ahh, he knew what this was.

‘Oh are you having a sulk?’ he frowned deeper, ‘Well if you’re going to be that way you can make your own damned tea.’

What a joke he was. Sherlock stiffened at the suggestion he make his own drink. He jumped out of bed quickly and pushed past John and into the kitchen. John heard the kettle click on. And he had given up some chance with a perfectly fine bloke cause of this git?

‘Ok. So you’re in a strop. Lestrade keep you off a good case? Mycroft drop past without notice? Or is it just that tonight I went out with a bloke and managed to surprise you?’

Sherlock spun around to face John, his dressing gown whirling up in typical Sherlockian flare.

‘No, John, why on earth would that bother me? I’m not having a 'strop' as you put it, I’m not doing anything I’m just making tea.’

Unfortunately for the mug nearest the edge Sherlock was waving his hands about and managed to knock it off. The mug smashed to the ground. John jumped back to avoid being cut by flying pieces of ceramic.

‘Yea, not a strop,’ he said under his breath as he bent to pick up the broken shards, ‘This is why I make tea. You make it a dangerous challenge.’

Sherlock scoffed and, shock of all, bent to help John. They picked up the biggest pieces and placed them in the bin before a small shard managed to slice into Sherlock’s hand. Blood bloomed at the cut and John reached quickly for the hand to survey the damage. It was a reflex by now, checking Sherlock’s injuries.

‘Christ, Sherlock. Be careful would ya?’ It wasn’t a bad cut. John pulled Sherlock to his feet by the hand he was still holding and moved to get the first aid kid from under the sink.

‘No its fine,’ Sherlock muttered. He pulled his hand out of John’s reach when he returned to the table with his gear. ‘Don't I’m fine’

‘Just stay still, it’ll only take a second’ John pulled the antiseptic cream from its place and dabbed a small bit onto Sherlock’s skin, rubbing it in softly with the pads of his thumbs. ‘Better deal with it now then when it gets infected’.’

Sherlock rolled his eyes as John pulled out a bandaid and smoothed it over the cut, but didn’t try to pull away again.

‘There, wasn’t so hard. Are you gonna keep sulking?’ He waited a second for a reply that didn’t come, ‘Fine, go sit in your seat, I’ll make tea.’

Sherlock walked over to his seat without a word. He sat and looked at the cut on his hand, staring at where John had covered it up.

John quickly cleared away the remainder of broken mug before quickly busying himself making tea. When he was done he moved into the lounge and placed the tea on the coffee table between their seats. As he sat down his phone went off again.

“Sarah: so, told you he was dreamy, whatcha think?”

John smiled.

“John: Not sure. Not really my type”

John placed the phone on the arm of his chair and picked up his mug. Sherlock was smiling softly down into his sweetened tea. _Tea fixes everything_ John thought with a smile of his own. Sherlock could always be reasoned with when John made him a cuppa.

‘Ahh, the magic of tea.’ John chuckled, reaching for his phone when it went off again.

“Sarah: What do you mean not your type? He’s perfect for you John.”

 ‘Two in 5 minutes, must be special.’ Said Sherlock, his frown reappearing as his smile slipped away.

‘Mmm, not really’

“John: Haha he’s perfect for someone... just not me”

 ‘Shall we watch something?’ John asked reaching for the remote. ‘Maybe there’s been an interesting murder that’ll be on the news. Get you out of your strop.

‘It’s late.’ Was Sherlock’s short reply.

‘So we'll get the late news. That stuff’s always weirder, kids have gone to sleep and all.’

John pressed the on button on the remote but the TV stayed black. He hit the remote against his knee and tried again. Nothing. _Batteries must be flat_. His phone went off again and he reached for it.

Sherlock’s jaw closed shut with an audible snap. ‘Third time.’ He said in a low, dangerous tone, ‘Don't let me distract you.’

Sherlock stood sharply and stormed out of the room, down the stairs, slamming the door behind him. John let him sulk, didn’t follow him or call out. Whatever his problem was, he could deal with it.

“Sarah: Ahh, I think I know what the problem is.”

“John: Yea just shut up ;) ”

“Sarah: Well I suppose I owe you for setting you up with the wrong guy, have the shift off tomorrow, ill text you in the morning about the next day.”

John stared at his phone for a second longer. Well, what was he meant to do now? He finished his tea and climbed the stairs to his room, deciding he might as well sleep.

\--------------

When John came down stairs the next day the flat was silent and empty.

‘Sherlock?’ John called towards the detective’s room.

No reply came. Nether less when John started making his morning tea he pulled down two mugs instead of one. Sherlock would probably come out in a second and if he didn’t have a cup the sulking would start again.

There was a slight knock at the door and Mrs. Hudson came fluttering in, all quiet energy. She popped some biscuits on the counter.

‘Ahh, Mrs. Hudson you saint.’ That ought to make Sherlock happy.

'Sherlock's been moody all night, hopefully a good cuppa will cheer him...’ He said, continuing to make the tea. ‘You didn’t happen to see him after he left here did you?’

‘Left, dear?’ Mrs. Hudson replied, ‘Oh, he never left. Been on my couch all night, poor love. Talking my ear off, it was all rather odd, I got almost no sleep. I finally told him I had to go to bed, because you know I have a hip and it needs rest. But then when I woke up this morning, he hadn’t moved, I put a blanket over him-‘

‘Wait, he’s been at yours all night?’ John said, cutting off Mrs. Hudson’s tendency to ramble.

‘Oh yes, dear and in quite a state. Wouldn’t tell me why though I did wonder.’ She raised an eyebrow in John’s direction, as if he should know what was happening.

‘Well what was he saying? What did he talk about all night?’ John asked, slightly confused.

‘Now, now, don’t worry, he wouldn’t tell me anything specific about your domestic. Even when I inquired, love!’

‘Our domestic?’ John scoffed slightly, still confused. ‘Mrs. Hudson we're not actually dating. Surely he said something. Anything. He’s the biggest two year old in the world, there’s no way he wouldn’t use any opportunity to point out my failings and whine about how stupid I’ve been.’

Mrs. Hudson smirked back at him when he said they weren’t dating. John had really thought she, at least, was over assuming they were a couple.

‘Oh dear, come now, you know Sherlock idolises the ground you walk on, imagine him hearing you now.’ She said, scolding. ‘He’s never said a bad word about you to me.’

Before John could reply to that there was a crash down stairs.

‘Oh I’d better run love, before he tears apart the place! He really does mean well. I’m sure you two will work it out.’ She gave a knowing look to John before racing off down stairs at the sound of another crash.

John sighed to himself and looked back to the mugs and biscuits.

"John: Making tea, stop terrorising poor Mrs H and come drink it"

‘Sherlock Holmes I don’t care what... you can’t just... And sulking will not help your domestic now...’ John could hear snatches of Mrs. Hudson’s raised voice from downstairs before the stomp of Sherlock’s footfall on the stairs.

‘Good morning sunshine.’ John said with a sarcastic smirk, placing Sherlock’s tea on the table near his microscope as he came in.

‘Good morning, John.’ Sherlock said tightly, his tone had a fake politeness about it, as if John were a client.

John scowled slightly before moving on.

‘What’s on the agenda today? Case? Experiment? I’ve got work off; Sarah gave me the day home.’ John sipped his tea. ‘Use me as you will, I’ve nothing else to do.’

Sherlock’s fake smile faltered for a second, ‘No, nothing on today, sure to be boring.’

‘Well,’ John reached for where his laptop was on the table and pressed the on button. ‘Suppose I can work on the blog. you’re sure there’s nothing? Seriously, if it means you won’t blow something up, I'm keen.’

‘Well I guess, there is this one experiment’ Sherlock’s voice evened out into its usual haughty tone. ‘I’ve been meaning to tr-’

John’s phone went off. Sarah again; no shifts tomorrow. John smiled quickly and sent off a response.

‘Meaning to what?’ He asked, noticing that Sherlock hadn’t continued his sentence. His back was stiff and he was glaring at the phone in John’s hand.

‘...Meaning to-’ the phone went off again. ‘God, John that is so irritating, why don’t you just go spend the bloody day with him.’

Not the best time Sarah. John replied quickly and hoped that was that. ‘Hmm? With who?’

‘With him. ‘Sherlock growled, pacing. ‘Chucky or whatever the blithering idiots name was.’

‘Chuck..’ John said slowly, ‘Charlie?’

‘I DON'T CARE WHAT HIS NAME IS!’ Sherlock faced John suddenly and his hands flew above his head.

John’s phone went off again and he could have smashed it. He resolutely ignored it.

‘Sherlock. Calm down. Why would I spend the day with Charlie?’

‘Just answer his text, I know you want to.’

‘His... text...’ Realisation. ‘Sherlock, I’m not texting him. I don’t even have his number, and I didn’t give him mine.’

‘What? Just-’ Sherlock stuttered. ‘Don’t lie to me.’

‘Sherlock, ‘John started, relief flooding him, ‘I’m not lying.’ He laughed nervously and pulled up his recent conversations on his phone, sliding it towards Sherlock on the table. ‘Sarah, I’m texting Sarah, she set us up, she wanted to know how it went. Then she text this morning about a shift I was gonna to take tomorrow.’

Sherlock read the texts. His eyes flittered over the screen quickly. He coughed once when he was done and sent the phone sliding back to John.

‘Well then.’

‘Yea,’ John took a long sip of his tea. ‘Well..? Aren’t you going to apologise for yelling at me?’

‘Apologise? No.’ Sherlock looked as though the idea were laughable. ‘So, you didn’t really didn’t like Chris?’

‘No. I didn’t really like _Charlie_.’ John laughed back.

‘Well,’ Sherlock said with a grin, and then after a nervous moment, ‘So you’re unattached, just like me. Fine. Good.’

John smiled at the familiar conversation. ‘Yes. Though apparently I’m an egocentric git and married to my work.’

Sherlock laughed at the tease and looked at the table. ‘I wouldn’t say married to my work, not anymore.’

‘No? You guys get a divorce in the great argument of the missing fingerprint evidence from the last case?’ Asked John, teasing.

‘It seems, as unlikely as it sounds, there’s something... better, than cases.’

‘Yea? What might that be?’

Sherlock turned silent and reached for his tea. John stared at him for a moment before his phone went off. Sherlock didn’t make a move of annoyance, thankfully, so John checked it quickly.

 "You. - SH"

John was shocked and stared at his phone for longer than he meant to.

‘Sherlock...’ John was confused, ‘What do you...’ he looked up at Sherlock and felt anger build in him. ‘You can’t just...’ Sherlock had an expectant look on his face, listening intently to what he was saying, ‘mess with a guy like that.’

Sherlock was staring at John, staring through him, seeing every emotion as it appeared and was quickly replaced.

‘I’m not-’

‘Not what Sherlock?’ John rubbed his hands over his face to try calm himself, ‘Not what?’

‘I’m not messing with you, John.’

‘Ok, then you’ve misinterpreted...’ John took a deep breath, keeping himself distant and looking at the roof before admitting, ‘I lied, I _was_ flirting that night. That’s what this is. Flirting. And you shouldn’t flirt with someone you’re not interested in.’

‘I know, I knew you were flirting with me. I’m not an idiot. I’m not...’ Sherlock was still looking hard into John’s face. He seemed agitated as he continued, ‘John I’m not actually asexual or a virgin or whatever you seem to harbour a belief that I am.’

‘You’re’ John took another breath, it seemed his lungs had been set to manual. ‘You’re what? No. No you are.’

‘God John, after all this time. After all we’ve been through together. You still think that I don’t-’

Sherlock cut off suddenly. John looked as if he was about to have a panic attack. He was gulping air and his eyes were blown wide and moving rapidly, trying to take in what Sherlock was saying, trying to believe.

‘No you... you can’t... Sherlock you... really?’ He put a hand out to steady himself. ‘Say it. I want to hear you say it. So I know I’m not getting this all wrong in my head’

Sherlock walked, slowly and deliberately around the table. He had a sad, solemn look on his face. Vulnerable, John would almost call it, if John’s head had been working.

‘This friendship, your friendship, is the most important thing I’ve ever had. What I want to say, what I _need_ to say, could jeopardise all of that.’ Sherlock's voice slowly dropped until at the end it was barely a whisper as he said ‘How can I risk that?’

‘Cause I’m an idiot.’ John said, encouragingly, ‘And sometimes things need to be spelled out before I understand. Whatever you say, I’m not going anywhere. Promise.’

John wanted nothing more than to reach out and clasp Sherlock hands. He wanted to reassuringly run his palms up the taller man’s arms, card his fingers soothingly through his hair.

‘John, I...’

John’s phone buzzed in his hand.

‘Oh for god’s sake’

Sherlock reached forwards, clasped John’s head in his large hands and pulled him in for a kiss. John didn’t freeze, he didn’t pause. There was no way this could be real, but he was still going to take advantage while he could.

Their lips met, locked and opened up for one another. Sherlock felt John sink into the kiss, opening his mouth. Their tongues met, swirled together, tasting, fighting for dominance.

John broke away momentarily. ‘Sherlock. When?’

They continued kissing but Sherlock managed to get out a breathless, ‘When what?’

‘When this. How long have you felt like this. Why didn’t you tell me?’ John said, pulling back again and staring into Sherlock’s eyes.

Sherlock didn’t even have to consider before answering.

‘When you shot that cabbie, I felt something but I ignored it, sentiment. And every time you would take out those women’ He said the word like it was filthy in his mouth, ‘I’d feel angry or... jealous.’

John felt frozen now. So long. So much time missed.

‘But I could shove my feelings away, I could ignore them because you’re “not gay" and I knew that I’d never have a chance. Until I opened the door and it was a man and everything I thought I knew about you was wrong. It was so wrong.’ Sherlock voice was rising in pitch, he was starting to sound hysterical. How could he have been wrong?

Sherlock pushed them both back, John’s back against the fridge. ‘You are so hard to read John, and it drives me crazy.’ He whispered before leaning forwards and biting John’s pulse point, finding his heart racing.

‘Sherlock.’ John moaned. He pushed Sherlock back slightly, so he could see his face, ‘Sherlock I- I didn’t know. If I’d known-’ He kissed Sherlock again before pushing back. ‘I thought you knew. You know everything.’

Sherlock stared into John’s eyes and saw nothing but admiration and love. How? How could he have missed that? How hadn’t he seen the truth? How had John hidden it so well?

‘How?’

‘Because we’re idiots.’


End file.
